Back in the game

Sunday

We all do stupid things. But the real problem is when we do stupid things repeatedly.

Like all those times in college you had so much to drink that you don't remember how you got home? Yeah, pretty silly to try that again 14 years after you're out of college.

Or trying to jump up all three stairs in the garage. You'd think after breaking two toes by failing to elevate the necessary height to clear all three, you wouldn't try it again.

Or better still, getting back into being a soccer referee.

That was one of the ways I made money as a teenager and into my early 20s. I kind of liked it. You know, running around on 95-degree days, dressed all in black to hear mommies and daddies around the Kansas City area tell me what an idiot I am. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?

It was even better when the weather was damp and windy, or when Johnny's dad decided to confront me on the field after games to tell me how pathetic I am.

Little time to rest, even less time to eat or go to the bathroom. What's not to love?

Why did I stop being a youth soccer referee? The answer I give is, I got out because of jerks like me.

Who doesn't like berating referees? That's almost a sport of its own, especially when you have people honestly believing there is a Big 12 Conference conspiracy between the University of Kansas and the basketball referees.

If you follow my Hutchinson Community College basketball tweets, you know how hard I can get on the refs. Just last week at the women's NJCAA Tournament in Salina, I referred to one referee as "Mr. Tough Guy" after he stopped reporting a technical foul to stare down HCC coach John Ontjes.

My youngest daughter Josie enjoys standing with me at Sporting Park in Kansas City, Kan., during Sporting Kansas City games. She likes chanting and singing with the rest of the fellow crazy fans in "The Cauldron." Her favorite chants are as follows:

"I'm blind! I'm deaf! I wanna be a ref!"

"The yellow team sucks! The yellow team sucks!"

Josie was a little confused at first as to why the fans were yelling at the yellow team, when neither team wore yellow. I asked her to find people on the field wearing yellow, and her face instantly brightened.

Sadly, referee berating isn't confined to pro and college sports. It goes all the way down to the youth level, and youth soccer can get pretty bad. We often wonder why there aren't more young referees around. Why do a job when people constantly tell you how stupid you are?

Being an elderly 36-year old, I can handle jerks like me a lot better.

Thus, I decided last winter that if I was going to spend so much time at the Sedgwick County Soccer Association's complex, watching Josie and my son Landon, I might as well make a few bucks and get back into refereeing.

I passed the classes, paid my dues and bought the uniform. The primary jersey is yellow with black pinstripes, which is OK, but those silly black knee socks ... I mean, seriously? How foolish can I look?

On March 16, I made my re-debut. For the first time since the summer of 1999 I was a soccer referee.

Of course, I have to start back at the bottom, and that meant a couple under-9 games that day. The rest of the people I worked with that day were mostly young enough to be my own kids.

Problems were nonexistent for those first two games. One coach wanted an illegal throw-in early in the first game, and a coach in the second game wanted a late penalty kick call that the kid referee in the middle (rightfully) didn't call. Other than that, no problems at all.

Well, other than my hair, which had blown so much in the strong wind that it looked like I stuck my finger in an electrical socket. And nobody bothered to tell me that in addition to having the silly uniform on, my hair made me look like a dork.

Throughout this year, I will continue to chronicle the wacky and sometimes wicked world of being a youth soccer referee. The best advice I will give you is be careful what you say and how you act at your kids' games.

You never know when a referee might double as a sports journalist, ready to write about screaming parents.

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